


Remembering how to breathe

by void_kogane



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, They both do, bucky deserves the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/void_kogane/pseuds/void_kogane
Summary: tw// ptsdSometimes Steve ́s laughter lets him involuntarily let out a breath he so desperately taught himself to hold onto.Other times, Steve would smile at him and maybe, Bucky thought, maybe it was okay to feel something other than pain.





	Remembering how to breathe

Bucky was used to holding his breath through life, used to the heavy weight on his chest matching the heaviness of his thoughts, always prepared for the worst to happen. Which it does, eventually. Well, at least it had; from since he was in the war, to when he was a brainwashed assassin, then to when he fought alongside the Avengers, one constant thought has always stayed in his mind: danger would never cease. He accepted peace as something temporary, a concept resulted by false hope people used as a reassurance. He knew by now to not let victory comfort him. 

So when he returned from the snap, fought and won the battle with the Avengers, he waited, breath caught at the bottom of his throat for the day danger barges right back in. He waits, thoughts never at rest, his heart always heavy, as the world continues settling right back to how it was before. He notices the trauma hovering in the air every time he breathes in the city, but the civilians let their hearts melt off the fear and pain, they try and forget about the last five years of hell. Bucky's heart twinges of envy, but his fixed thoughts catch up quick, reminding him that their patched up hearts will eventually be broken again, right when they think they’re allowed to breathe again. 

The Avengers give in to the comfort of a won battle, which has Bucky analytical and curious, unable to understand how a team made of ptsd and loss are able to wake up every morning with their hearts a little bit lighter, letting themselves breathe a little bit steadier. He wonders how Steve is able to laugh again, after losing more people to the inevitable evil that tends to resurface to specifically haunt them. He sees the pain in his eyes slowly heal and ease, hears his laughter more instead of his cries.

He wonders if that would be easier, would lessen the nights he'd wake up screaming, would lessen the pain of having to live through just another day of waiting for the next war. Sometimes Steve ́s laughter lets him involuntarily let out a breath he so desperately taught himself to hold onto. Other times, Steve would smile at him and maybe, Bucky thought, maybe it was okay to feel something other than pain.

  
  
  


Steve was the only thing he looked forward to every time he woke up, to hear the familiar of his voice and the calmness of his eyes. Bucky’s guard seemed to falter around him when they were alone, the sporadic beat of his heart falling to a steadier pace with the comfort of Steve’s warm smile. Bucky had trouble with the word, _ home, _but he knew Steve’s the closest thing to home he’s ever felt. 

Steve had never even _ mentioned _ their past relationship in the time they’ve been living in the future, never once pushed, or even suggested something to happen. Bucky knew how hard he tried to push those feelings away, make it seem normal and okay, but he always caught the long stares Steve would give him, the longing in his eyes evident alongside the small frown he was quick to replace with a smile. Bucky knew it hurt him to pretend they’ve always been nothing more than just friends, and _ fuck, _it hurt him too, but it was better off this way. The loss of a relationship would be less painful than the guilt he’d feel of knowing Steve deserves infinitely more than he could ever offer. Steve Rogers deserves the world and more, he shouldn’t have to settle for someone so damaged and mutilated. Bucky’s unstable, and Steve doesn’t need another project to try and fix. 

  
  
  


He woke up the same way he usually does at least four times a week- with tears dry on his face, a scream leaving his lips, and his metal hand gripping the sheets so bad he tears the fabric. This was one was one of the shittier ones- it was back in his brain-washed, straight out of Hydra days, he had been fighting Steve, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him _ hard _ on the concrete. With his metal arm he had beat the shit out of him, the silver of his arm being coated with red. He saw the life leave the eyes of Steve by his own doing and _ fuck, _those tears started falling again and Bucky let out a cry of pain and anger, screaming as loud as he fucking needed because who the hell would be awake at this time of night? 

And of course, _ of course, _the world is never in his fucking favour because there’s a knock at his door and a soft “Buck?” from none other than Steve fuckin’ Rogers. His human hand is shaking like hell, and when he stands he discovers his whole body is too. He opens the door to the softest fucking eyes he’s ever seen and Jesus Christ he can’t do this shit anymore, can’t handle being around Steve and act like his body doesn’t feel like it’s on fucking fire. He turns away from him, hands both balled into fists, his nails breaking skin on his flesh one. 

“Everything’s fine, Steve, no need to check up on me.” 

“Y’know, there’s multiple signs telling me everything’s not fine.” Bucky can hear Steve step closer to him. “Another dream?” 

Bucky’s holds his breath, counts to five, then counts back to one. He unballs his fist, wishing Steve would just leave him the fuck alone and stop caring so goddamn much when Bucky deserves none of it. His heart and head fucking hurts and _ fuck _this fuck all of this-

“Buck?”

“Just. Jesus Christ, Steve, I’m _ fine _. Promise. Much rather be alone right now.” 

“Hey, ease up, yknow you don't have to act good all the time around me.” 

Bullshit. Fucking bullshit because Bucky couldn’t let himself completely fall apart in front of Steve, couldn’t risk letting his heart have the chance to face the pain of letting him love him fully. He was okay with carrying the weight of repression- he’s made amends with it, accepted the fact that they can love each other but not act on it. Opening a new door full of shit they wouldn’t be able to handle would only add to that strain so lingeringly present in their friendship. He knew if he let him, Steve would give him his everything, and holy _ hell _is that a fucking tragedy. Captain America, the Boy Scout poster boy of the country fallen for Hydras most talented assassin. Doesn’t make quite a good news headline. 

“You don’t gotta talk. But please, at least let me stay for a while.” 

One of the most frustrating but admirable traits of Steve was the fact that he was incredibly stubborn, dangerously so. When he made up his mind, he wasn’t going to go any other way. Bucky went to sit at the foot of his bed, knowing there was no point to even try to fight him. Steve hovered, and Bucky could tell he didnt know what to do- whether to stand or sit, talk or stay silent. And _ god, _that drove Bucky fucking insane because why in the fuck does Steve care so goddamn much about him? Why does he treat Bucky like one wrong move would cause him to break, as if he’s incapable of being a grown ass man and take care of his own shit? Steve acts like every problem in the world was up to him to fix, when all he needs to do is-

“Just back fuckin’ off, Steve. It was only a dream; they’re fake, just got a little spooked about it, is all.”

He’s trying to play it off like he’s fine, like he doesn’t need anyone to babysit him, but then he sees the hurt evident on Steve's face and immediately feels bad. And _ fuck _ Steve for making him feel like shit because he should be able to deal with shit alone but _ of course _ Steve manages to get feelings out of Bucky when he’s learned how to so carefully keep them inside. He runs his hand over his face, exhaustion falling over him. His alarm clock read three twenty in the morning, why’s Steve even awake right now?

“Why’re you up anyways, Stevie?” Shit. He didn't mean to call him that- he blames it on the exhaustion, but it always makes his heart hurt when he slips up and uses that nickname. It’s too nostalgic, too intimate, and he hates how he can notice the small blush paint Steve’s cheeks for just a split second. This time though, he’s a bit grateful for the slip up, because Steve relaxes just a bit, probably grateful for the change in Bucky’s tone.

“Nothing important, guess I just couldn’t fall asleep.” He says this with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant, but now Bucky notices the bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair.

“You been getting dreams worse than usual too?” 

“Yeah. It’s weird, thought everything was starting to be good again.”

Bucky didn't know what to say, He never does anymore. Back in the ‘40s he used to be so good at talking to Steve, to calm him down or rile him up. Now his mind is all blocked up, buried in busy thoughts about how Steve deserves better, deserves more happiness than Bucky can give him. And how Bucky deserves less, and that, maybe happiness isn’t for him anymore. 

“They about Thanos?” He decides to say, finally. 

“Guess so. Mostly Tony. I could’ve prevented...what he did and my minds just reminding me of that.”

“How in the hell could you have prevented that? By sacrificing yourself? Stark chose to do what he did, and because of that we won the war.” 

Steve shrugged again. He always did an awful lot of that when he was processing or avoiding things. Bucky hoped this time it was the former.

“And you?” Steve said this with hesitancy, hoping Bucky wouldn’t shut down at the question. 

“Was about you. Killing you.” 

Steve was still for a moment, probably overwhelmed with the blatant answer. 

“Buck I…”

“It’s fine, nothing I can’t handle.”

Steve hesitated again, unsure of whether to say what he was about to. 

“Do you want me to stay here for the night? Hopefully make it better for the both of us.”

Fuck it. Maybe Bucky should try feeling something other than pain and anxiety, just to see what it would feel like to breathe again. Just for a night. 

“Yeah, go ahead. As long as you don’t hog up all the bed, Rogers.” He was going to add, ‘like you did back in the day,’ but he was already being too fucking vulnerable and _ that _would be way too much, too domestic and emotional. 

Steve chuckled, finally sitting beside Bucky. Bucky felt like his heart was just beating right in his hands. But _ fuck, _ Steve was right here and it _ hurt _but it felt kind of peaceful to give in to the comfort of it all, even for just a little while. Bucky knew Steve wouldn’t initiate something, he knew to let Bucky set whatever pace he felt was okay between their friendship.

Bucky took Steve’s hand in his human one, quickly so he couldn’t back out. His head was dizzy and he felt his heart speed up when Steve gave his hand a small squeeze. He doesn’t deserve Steve Rogers, but Steve wanted him, always and only ever wanted him, and even though he never wanted to admit it, he wanted nothing else as well. 

“Stevie. Look at me.” 

He did. And god, those fucking eyes. Bucky never knew anything as calming as looking into eyes as warm and as _ blue _as Steve’s. And maybe he was getting ahead of himself but Steve was way too beautiful and sweet to be real, and when Bucky places his hand on his cheek and Steve’s already out of breath in anticipation of what’s gonna happen next, he wonders why it took him so long to do this.

The fear and pain and guilt and _ everything _ bad that suffocated him hurts just a bit less, and yes, Steve does deserve better, but right now they both want this and Bucky would rather not let this opportunity go to waste so he pulls him in and kisses him and it’s so fucking right, too too good, and he finds himself move his hand from Steve’s cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. He can _ feel _Steve smiling into the kiss and it’s so fucking cheesy but exactly what they both need.

They find themselves kissing until it’s hard to breathe, pulling apart to rest their foreheads against each other. He feels Steve’s breath fanning his and it reminds him of back in the day, when they’d kiss and kiss and kiss until poor small, asthmatic Steve had to scramble for breath, sometimes needing his inhaler. The memory made a wave of comfort course through Bucky, which was a refreshing change from the usual pain that resulted from nostalgic thoughts.

And maybe, Bucky thought, he could allow himself to accept and give that love that’s been weighing down on his chest for so long. Maybe he could finally allow himself to accept happiness again. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> the end looks super rushed aaa I’m sorry !! also pls lmk if u liked this, I rlly appreciate it :)


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